


almighty lord we have come to your hall

by hyperandrogenism



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Post-The Transformers: Last Stand of the Wreckers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Battle, Purple Prose, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Stream of Consciousness, The Transformers: Last Stand of the Wreckers, idk what else to tag lol, mentions of the -tration stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27031444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperandrogenism/pseuds/hyperandrogenism
Summary: "Verity's seen the Autobot frontliners, the real career soldiers, theveterans. How they carry themselves with confidence less experienced 'bots don't have, how they have that level stare that lets you know you don't want to mess with them. It's awesome in the original sense of the word, to touch a three story tall machine that can throw another mech one and a half times their size across a battlefield and feel their EM field full of power making her hair stand up and be picked up by hands that have crushed heads between their fingers. But the Wreckers are a whole class of their own."
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. almighty lord we have come to your hall

**Author's Note:**

> ngl this is mostly me trying to become the "gay for robots and has a fetish for commas and run on sentences" writer so im experimenting a lot with purple prose lol
> 
> anyway!! transformers are very cool and big and i love them and i figured out verity was like. 18 or so in lsotw?? which is wild to me because im 17 but yeah
> 
> if i got anything wrong about the -tration comics ignore it lol
> 
> title from 7734 by sabaton, [recommended listening here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLJXffcSKWGn0RIdi7ICmHXOrc0bPVK8zo)

Verity's seen the Autobot frontliners, the real career soldiers, the  _ veterans _ . How they carry themselves with confidence less experienced 'bots don't have, how they have that level stare that lets you know you don't want to mess with them. It's awesome in the original sense of the word, to touch a three story tall machine that can throw another mech one and a half times their size across a battlefield and feel their EM field full of power making her hair stand up and be picked up by hands that have crushed heads between their fingers. But the Wreckers are a whole class of their own. Even Ironhide, every bit a warrior as any Wrecker, isn't the same. No other Autobot is  _ wild _ like them; there isn't the same constant awareness in their optics or battle-ready tension in their shoulders. There isn’t the willingness to do anything to win while simultaneously being fully prepared to lay down their lives in any Autobot Verity’s met.

It makes her feel like even more of an awkward troublesome teenager to be surrounded by them. Gangly and inexperienced and out of her depth, even if she can pretend to be one of them just because she's come face to face with Megatron and Sixshot. She hates it. She knows compared to the other Wreckers she  _ is _ a kid, even the new recruits have seen battles on a scale she can't even comprehend, and it just makes her want to prove herself even more.

The new recruits are nervous too, shifting and fidgeting. It’s not what she’d pictured when she’d chosen to stow away. She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and wishes she'd chosen the other pod, just to see them and feel the energy, but she knows the veteran Wreckers would have a much harsher reaction to her stowing away like this.

Fear starts to gather in her stomach. It was  _ there _ , it'd been there since those jets had first screamed down over her years ago, but when she heard Impactor talk about what's really going on in Garrus 9 and she’d seen it from orbit it had grown and now that she's minutes out from landing it gets close to overwhelming.

For a second Verity considers hiding and staying in the pod, even if it will be left behind and abandoned, or better yet, dropping down out of the ceiling and begging them to take her back to Ultra Magnus. But she knows she can't do that. She's too far along, too close. For better or for worse, she's going to be baptized as a Wrecker in the holy water of whatever's waiting for her where they're headed.

So she takes a deep breath, makes sure her helmet is sealed, and puts on a smirk. It takes a little shove to swing out the ceiling tile, then Verity's jumping down to Pyro's shoulder.

"So! Are we there yet?" she says in her best "cheerful, there's no chance I'm dying today" voice.


	2. (dead men will never come back)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah ❤️ warning for semi graphic descriptions of the violence in lsotw
> 
> im a slut for religious/wedding imagery and you can send your complaints to my gay 8th grade english teacher who made me watch the 1996 romeo and juliet movie and my mom who passed her catholic guilt onto me
> 
> this is... lowkey a vent?? idk yeah ❤️
> 
> title from to hell and back by sabaton which is required listening for any wreckers fans

The smell of smoke and gunpowder and rancid energon saturates the air, no matter how far they get from Garrus 9. The medbay is loud, full of mechs in pain and in grief, and even to Verity the fear in their EM fields is palpable. So Verity dips, ignoring Ultra Magnus telling her to stay, and makes her way back to the nook she dug out to sleep in.

It's not a long walk, but Verity finds herself wishing it was. The walking helps, it calms her mind. Climbing into her makeshift bedroom, letting the wall panel close behind her, makes her feel stifled. She sits down on the edge of her bed and the full weight of what happened hits her like a punch to the chest.

Nothing could have prepared Verity for any of that.

It takes her a few minutes of staring at the wall, eyes wide and breathing ragged, to will herself to move. Her hands shake when she goes to take off her armor, hard enough that it takes her twice as long as usual, and once it's all off she feels so weak and small and young and scared that she has to curl up with her head between her knees for a minute, still squeezing her helmet in her cold hands.

She can't believe she'd  _ wanted  _ that. She's seen mechs die before, she's seen people die before, but not like  _ that _ . Not heads blown off by guns bigger than her body, and flayed bodies strung up on walls, and the fear in someone's optics when they know within minutes they're going to die in a very painful, very violent way, and bodies ripped in half to be used as weapons, and  _ Springer _ .

Her heart goes even faster than her mind and for a second Verity is scared it's going to beat out of her chest. She hugs her knees tight to her chest, hiding behind them. The comotion when Impactor had carried Springer's limp body, face (or lack thereof) totally exposed to anyone who was tall enough to see, into Ultra Magnus's ship still rings in her ears. As soon as he was lucid enough Kup had been yelling, trying to stay with the near-lifeless body of a mech he'd practically raised, and those grief-filled sobs aren't something Verity will forget for as long as she lives.

She'd put on a show, down there, to make the Wreckers think she's cool and strong and capable like they are. But now that it's all over the facade is slipping. She feels like she should be crying like Kup, or at least simmering like Impactor, but she just wants to be held and comforted and to cry into someone's shoulder because  _ she should never have seen any of that _ but the thought of how Ultra Magnus, the only free mech she feels safe with, awkwardly trying to make her feel better makes Verity ill.

It'll be easier in the morning, that's one thing Verity knows from years of being a troubled teenager. So she mechanically strips off her disgusting clothes, throws them in a corner, and pulls the blanket over her head to hide like the little kid she can't help but feel like. Under the covers, it's nice and warm and safe. It's not very stoic or brave of her, but it makes her feel better. 

For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, she's a Wrecker now.

**Author's Note:**

> harass me on tumblr [@himboimpactor](https://himboimpactor.tumblr.com/)


End file.
